Trapped (Under Northern Skies #3)

Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

Bren says we have to do things differently so my memories don’t overwhelm me. He stowed the clothes in the storage space and covered the double bed with a dotted duvet cover.

Later, when I want to lie down, he points to the sleeping alcove above the driver’s cab. “Remember, we do everything differently. So, you sleep elsewhere too.”

I nod uneasily and climb up, wondering what will happen tonight. From the alcove, I watch Bren lay a worn blanket on the floor for Grey. Grey comes running and looks up at me with honey-colored eyes, barking his signature dark, wolf bark.

“No, not there, boy, your place is down here and will stay down here. I’ve got Lou to myself tonight, just so we’re clear,” Bren scolds, half serious, half joking, before finally pulling off his cargo pants and hoodie. For a second, my gaze falls onto the tattoo between his neck and shoulder blade. The black bird with one wing branching out into bare limbs—the play of his muscles makes it flap wildly.

I quickly look away, and when Bren climbs up to me over the bench only in boxer shorts, I stiffen. Not because I don’t want him, but because today was too much; my mind can hardly keep up.

Bren lies down next to me without touching me. “Is this okay for you? Me next to you?”

I look over at him. He’s staring at the ceiling but his senses seem wide awake. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because you’re scared. Of this.”

I don’t know exactly what he means by this, sleeping with me or sleeping next to me, but once again, I realize what an excellent observer he is. Of course, he’s a hunter who must always keep an eye on his prey and can anticipate its reaction before it knows itself. But I am no longer prey.

“Lou, we have time.” That’s all he says.

We lie side by side in silence for a while.

This is complete nonsense! You’ve longed for him so much, and now that you’re lying next to him, you’re as stiff as a porcelain doll.

I scoot closer to him so that our shoulders touch. Bren takes a deep breath and tentatively puts an arm around me.

“Okay?” he whispers and I sense his desire not to startle me with anything he does.

“Okay,” I whisper back. His closeness calms me as it has so many times before. It’s strange how my body always reacts to him. Like understands a lot more about love than my mind does.

I close my eyes with a comforting sigh. Eventually, I roll onto my side and Bren carefully wraps his arms around me from behind, just like he did the night I almost froze to death. His breath breaks against my neck. It’s the kind of closeness I need tonight. I feel protected, even from my fear-filled memories, like only he can keep them at bay. Crazy. It’s all just crazy.

At some point, I grope for the pendants on my necklace which I still wear every day and I think of my brothers. Do they already know? When I wrote the letters, I found my own story quite understandable. I now doubt that Ethan, Avy, and Liam will have much sympathy for me embarking on my own personal summer, even a whole new life, with my former kidnapper. I know there will be trouble, but I don’t know in what form.

For a long time, I am unable to fall asleep. I stare into the night and listen to the sounds of the forest. After the stars fade into a velvety blue sky, I drift off until the gentle vibration of the RV wakens me a while later—the generator is running. Just like back then.

Strangely familiar feelings of fear and happiness well up in me. Darn memories.

“Hey, sleepyhead, are you getting up?” Bren is puttering around the kitchen and glances at me. The tempting smell of coffee lies in the air.

I smile, move the blanket aside, and climb onto the bench. Grey immediately jumps over and happily licks my fingers. I giggle and scratch his head.

“I had to use force to stop him from jumping up to you!”

“He’s grown so big! I still can’t believe this is my little Grey.” Grey barks, seemingly indignant, and I laugh. He no longer fits on the bench with me.

I pet him, but after a few minutes, Bren chases him outside on a long leash. “He needs to let off more steam, otherwise, he’ll go completely nuts during the trip.”

He used to send me outside on a long leash for fresh air, I think, but I shove the thought out of my mind before it can take root. Today is today, over is over. “So, he no longer throws up while you drive?” I ask. I almost forgot.

Bren shrugs and leans against the counter. “He’s used to it by now.”

I watch Grey running in circles like a dervish outside. I’m so glad he has stayed with Bren. If he hadn’t, Bren would have been all alone again. “Where are we going?” I yawn wearily and squint at my cell phone which is on the counter next to the sink. Luckily, it hasn’t rung yet.

Bren pours me some coffee. Just like back then. “Maybe as far as Medford but we’ll have to do some shopping in between. We need a lot of water.”

We have to go shopping. The sentence resonates, and at first, I don’t know what’s so special about it until I realize that I’ve never been out in public with Bren. Our us consisted of the RV, the Yukon, and Grey.

An old shadow invades my consciousness. “You no longer get attacks when you go shopping?” I ask hesitantly, watching his reaction. He once told me that the bright neon lights, in supermarkets in particular, can trigger them.

He shakes his head. “I’ve been working on it. With my therapist and otherwise. Most of the time, it goes well.”

“How often does it not go well?”

“Rarely.”

“How often is rarely?”

“Heavens, Lou, I don’t keep count. Plus, I have my emergency resources, the skills, remember?”

I nod.

He looks at me in silence.

“You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to, Bren.”

“It’s okay. Is there anything else?”

Still, I hesitate before asking, “So, these resources…how exactly do they work and why do they even work?”

He breaks eye contact and runs his fingers through his chin-length hair before looking back at me. “You distract the psyche from the trigger. You do this by exposing yourself to a strong stimulus, for example, a physical stimulus. You trick the soul, if you will.”

“So, you always have an emergency chili in your pocket like other people have travel gum?” I tilt my head.

Bren laughs his trademark short laugh. “You could say that, yes.” But then he immediately grows serious again. “Did you have a bad dream last night?”

“No.”

“You were restless.” He studies me intently, but maybe he merely wants to change the subject.

“It took me a long time to fall asleep, but I didn’t dream anything.” I glance around the RV. The sun floods in through the side door, bathing the kitchenette in a golden glow. “Everything looks completely different in daylight. Not at all threatening.”

Bren makes a satisfied face and I take the cup of coffee he hands me. “Black with two lumps of sugar.”

We look at each other. It is unimaginable but the past lurks behind every sentence. “You’re still drinking it that way, aren’t you?” He seems almost unsure.

I nod quickly, mumbling a “thank you.” Demons of the past. They are great and detailed, everywhere really, as if alive.

Bren ignores it. “I want to take off right away so we can get some miles under our belt today.” He glances outside. “I’ve already been to the woods with Grey, so if you don’t mind, we’ll get going in a few minutes.”

I drink the coffee and nibble on the blueberry muffin he gave me, but for some reason, my stomach is upset. Probably because I’m worried about my brothers.

“It’s not starting again, is it?” Bren raises an eyebrow at the barely eaten muffin.

“I’m really not hungry.” As if on cue, my cell phone beeps.

Bren reaches for it, and for a moment, I think he’s going to read the message and then maybe catch the code word, but he hands the phone to me without looking at it. “Perhaps a message from one of your brothers. Must be important.”

I hastily take the phone from him and ignore his puzzled look. I sure do look guilty, but the code word wasn’t my idea.

Maybe I should turn off the WhatsApp notifications.

Is Jay already texting something about Ethan? Although, if Ethan knew, he’d call.

I click the message.

Came home late yesterday, secretly confiscated the letters to give to them today! I said you went to Elizabeth’s after the trip. Ethan was upset but didn’t want to call there so late! Say hello briefly!

Good morning, Jay. Smiley. I’m doing well! Thank you for everything! I text back quickly to put his mind at ease.

I breathe a sigh of relief. My reprieve has been extended. The more time that goes by, the more I dread Ethan’s reaction, perhaps because I’m becoming more aware of what I’m actually doing and what it means.

We drive down the last part of the pass with numerous hairpin turns where the mountain falls into the valley like a gray waterfall. Visalia and Tulare are below us and I find myself thinking about Bren driving here twelve months ago—with me hidden away. What was he thinking? How did he feel? Was he aware of the madness of his actions?

I glance at him every now and then as if I could read his feelings from his expressions but he’s focused on the road.

“What’s wrong, Lou?” he asks after leaving Fresno. Of course, he noticed something, it’s obvious. I can’t hide my emotions from him. No, I could actually never hide my feelings.

“I don’t know.” I stare out the window.

“Lou. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you fidgeting in your seat.” He doesn’t sound impatient or angry, just 100 percent factual like when he realizes an animal isn’t eating enough.

“Okay.” I glance over at him. Jayden once said that as humans we need to understand the things that scare us because if we understand them, maybe we can relate to them and that reduces the fear. And I don’t want to be afraid anymore, I want to understand Bren. Everything he did.

“I’m wondering…” No, a stupid start, “I…how did you feel when you abducted me? How did you feel then?” I blurt out.

Now he looks over at me longer, then back at the street. His brows are drawn together. “Do you truly want to know?”

“Maybe I can sort it out better that way.”

“I was happy to have you with me, but at the same time, I thought I was a monster for putting you in the box. By the way, I changed the RV’s license plates in Fresno and checked if you were still getting enough air. Satisfied?”

I nod with mixed feelings, not knowing what this information is doing for me. I look outside. We head to Merced down a narrow overland road and then on to Modesto. Dwarf fruit orchards alternate with green fields and withered fields; the sagging cables on the utility poles next to us are the only constant. The last glow of dawn still hangs over the plain, bathing everything in a warm glow, but little by little, it melts like watercolor paint in the steel-blue sky. Other than the Yukon and the return trip from Hudson’s Hope to Ash Springs, I haven’t seen anything of the world, although this trip will definitely be the longest and most intense one of my life. The land here is flat and wide, the horizon is dark-green scrubland, and small settlements of farms and shanty towns litter the landscape.

Behind Modesto, we stop at a Flying J and Bren tops off the fuel tank. I put Grey on his leash and pace the parking lot, explaining to him that I don’t know what’s wrong with me, either, as if he can understand me.

Bren joins us in the parking lot and lights a cigarette. “This is where I stopped the first time,” he says, gesturing vaguely to the parking lot. “A lonely, rugged region where no one cares about their neighbor. I opened the box and lay down on the floor next to you. That’s how we slept. You and me, close together. It was crazy.”

I try to visualize it but can’t. I have no memories because of the many narcotics.

“You’re pale again.” Bren frowns. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell you all this. What difference does it make?”

“I don’t know, honestly.” On the one hand, it scares me because it is and will always be madness, the act of a sick person. Just remembering how he forcefully drugged me makes me shiver despite the temperature. On the other hand, he has changed and nothing shows that more clearly than the present.

Bren looks at me. “Even I don’t believe what I’m about to say, but we should probably take a break from the past. What do you think? We’ll just pretend for a day that we are only what we are today. Bren and Lou, that’s it.” In the blazing sunlight, I notice for the first time that his irises are two-toned. In the dark brown are tiny rays of light brown like spokes on a wheel. For a moment, I have the silly notion that his eye color is lighter because he’s changed.

“I thought we couldn’t run from the past,” I reply, repeating his concerns from yesterday.

“We’re not running away. We’ll just stop time today and close our eyes. We won’t mention anything that reminds us of it, we won’t talk about it, and it’s best if we don’t even think about it.”

“What if I have another weird fit?”

“You won’t. It’s daylight and we’ve left Sequoia National Park behind us. There are a lot fewer triggers now and we’ll do everything differently. So, what do you think?”

I feel a grateful smile spread across my face. “That would be great!”

It’s going to be a hot day and temperatures are nearing the ninety-five-degree mark. We roll down the windows and I turn up the radio as loud as Grey’s ears will allow. The top of the charts are blaring and I feel like a ton of weight has fallen from my shoulders. It’s strange because nothing has changed, although Bren seems more carefree and I even catch him humming along to a song’s chorus. When he’s that relaxed, it’s easier for me to be me again: the girl who likes to laugh and wants to see the best in everyone and everything—despite everything.

Maybe it’s only because he acts differently that I can be carefree; maybe he’s just acting like this for my sake, to make me happy.

Eventually, I decide that even that doesn’t matter to me today. I put my feet on the dashboard and let the sun shine on my face through the open window. Maybe I’ll even get a little tan, at least then I won’t be so pasty anymore. With all of the studying, I’ve really turned into a couch potato.

An hour after leaving Sacramento, my cell phone beeps and I turn off the volume because even messages remind us of the past. I still have a guilty conscience. I’m sure it’s Jay who’s anxious to hear from me, but a deal is a deal.

We stop at a McDonald’s in the late afternoon and Bren buys us Big Macs, fries, and Coke which we eat in the RV because it’s too hot outside.

To tease him, I stuff the crumpled-up burger paper down the neckline of his shirt in passing after dinner.

He stares at me wide-eyed—he is completely perplexed. “Why did you do that?” Irritated, he fishes out the paper and places it on the table.

For a few seconds, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “That’s called having fun!” I tell him. “You do things to annoy others, but you don’t really have bad intentions.”

“Lou, I’m not stupid.” Slowly, he gets up and suddenly he’s face to face with me in the aisle.

“You must return the favor now. But you can’t do the same thing,” I say jokingly, stepping back, a signal for him to catch me. He comes toward me and I flee backward laughing, but he catches me and wraps his arms around my waist.

Looking like he’s trying hard to be funny, he drags me to the bed, throws me onto the pillows, and climbs on top of me. In a matter of seconds, he pins my wrists to the mattress with his hands.

“Gotcha!” His tone is a mixture of mockery, seduction, and a whisper.

I wriggle in his grip, but naturally, I can’t get free. “Hey, that’s unfair!” I stop struggling and look up at him. For seconds, the past flickers between us—like a flashback that hits us both at the same time. Immediately, Bren loosens his grip. He seems scared, but I laugh and he takes a deep breath.

The moment is over, we simply overplayed it.

“Insolence must be punished,” he then murmurs over me.

“Oh, yeah? And what punishment do you have in mind, Mr. Connor?”

“You’ll feel it soon enough!” He bends down and I close my eyes. With my next breath, I feel his lips on mine, just a fleeting touch.

“I’ll tease you more often,” I mumble before he kisses me properly.

“Hush.” His breath enters my mouth, a cocktail of freshness, tobacco, and Coke. “Or it won’t work.”

I laugh, free my hands, and tickle him below the ribs. Bren flinches, making a strange noise. I slip away from him—maybe he lets me escape on purpose—then yank open the bathroom door and reach for the shower. As I turn the knob, ice-cold water pours out of the showerhead.

“One more step and you’ll be wet like those salmon you love to catch!”

With a crooked grin, Bren walks toward me. “I dare you!”

I aim the jet at him and a shower of icy water rains down on him. Bren’s surprised face tempts me to turn the spray up.

“Wait!” He jumps at me.

From that moment, everything happens quickly. He grabs me with one hand, and with the other, he wrestles the showerhead from me in a brief struggle. Freezing rain is beating down on me, on my head, on my neck. I squeak, scream, and laugh, choke and cough. Brendan is gasping, maybe he’s laughing too, he’s definitely making different sounds than usual, maybe he’s cursing for fun, I don’t know.

As soon as I catch my breath again, he leans his arms against the wall on either side of me, forming a cage around me. He turned off the shower but I’m standing ankle-deep in the water. His face is close to mine. Water drips from his eyebrows into his eyelashes.

“Who’s as wet as a salmon now? You or me?” he asks in a hoarse voice. His dark hair is disheveled like it was at the lake.

“Okay, I lost!” I gasp for breath, squeezing my soaking wet top with my hands. It’s white and translucent, which Bren can’t help but notice. With sparkling eyes, he looks down at me and up again, where his gaze lingers on my mouth. I lick my lips involuntarily. The muscles in his arms, which still imprison me, twitch.

“Lou,” he whispers roughly.

I get hot and cold under the darkness of his gaze. A deep longing for our night at the lake suddenly fills me. I want to feel him like that again, so deep inside me, so inseparably connected to me, and yet something is holding me back, a whole new kind of fear—of him, of us, of what will be. Tentatively, as if knowing my thoughts, Bren releases a hand from the shower stall and runs two fingers slowly down my temple to my chin as if waiting for me to stop him. Heart pounding, I look at him as his fingers continue to stroke my wet skin down my neck to the pit of my throat.

My pulse beats hard in my throat.

Nothing’s going to happen to you!

I close my eyes for a moment and feel his fingers on my collarbone before Bren stops and puts his hand on my chest. My pounding heartbeat thunders like an echo into the cup of his hand.

“Don’t worry, Lou.”

“I’m not,” I whisper, still out of breath.

He smiles and bends down. “Lying is also punishable.” The wild, tender tone melts something inside me. His lips are rough as he kisses me cautiously, almost gently, as if trying to keep his desire from seeping through the kiss.

With a sudden longing, I bury my fingers in his hair, feel the smooth, silky strands in my hands, and Bren wraps both arms around me, pulling me tightly against him.

“I’ll never give you back, Lou,” he murmurs in my ear. “Never.” I feel it everywhere. His tense muscles and the heat of his body through the wet fabric. It’s like we’re naked. He smells of fresh sweat and water. Warmth floods my stomach and every thought in my mind blurs, yet my body suddenly grows rigid.

Bren steps away a bit and looks at me. “Nothing will happen that you don’t want. You know that.”

My stupid fear annoys me. “Have you had a lot of girls?” I ask, more to say something and give myself the time I didn’t know I needed.

Bren shakes his head seriously. “It doesn’t matter, Lou.”

Suddenly, I feel inexperienced and naive. Everything was so natural the first time, like a powerful magic that follows its own rules. We were in the middle of nowhere, right and wrong were reversed, and neither questions nor answers existed. I didn’t think at all and let my body show me the way.

“What if I do something wrong…” I mumble, embarrassed, pressing my face into his shirt.

Bren chuckles. His typical HA laugh. “That’s nonsense! How could you do anything wrong…you simply have to be with me and you’ll be doing everything right.”

“Bren,” I giggle, pinching his stomach through the shirt, feeling only taut muscles. “I am serious.”

“Me too!” His breath brushes over me rough and dark. “Simply looking at you makes me happy, touching you brings peace to my mind.”

His words are like caresses all over the body. I long for him so much—and yet…

“You didn’t answer my question.” I am buying time again. “How many girls have you been with?”

“None besides you. I’ve only had women.”

I bite my bottom lip and he pulls my chin up so I have to look at him.

“Lou, they didn’t mean anything to me. They were groupies who wanted to sleep with the winner of a fight. And you already know that I always won.”

He fought for several years. So there were many. Numerous. Countless. Five hundred? Suddenly, the shower cubicle seems too narrow to me.

“The things I did to them…” His gaze captures me as if he knows I’m trying to avoid him. “It was different than with you. Somehow, I didn’t stop fighting even during it. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

I nod and he lets go of my chin and tugs at my shoulder-length hair, a teasing, soothing gesture.

“They helped me fill a void. I didn’t love them, you know that. And what I did to them, it was…dirty.”

“You used them?”

“Lou, aren’t we over that? About the question of whether I’m a good person or not.”

“I’m sorry.”

We look at each other and his gaze captivates me as it has so often. If I peer too deeply, I’ll be hopelessly lost, as if his being draws me inside him and locks me in there with no chance of escape.

“Lou, I would never use you. And those other things…wouldn’t be acceptable. They would be…inappropriate.”

Inappropriate. Only he can express himself that way. A smile creeps up my face. “Maybe someday, I’ll want us to do inappropriate, dirty things,” I claim while looking at him openly even though I’m trembling.

“Stop that, Lou!”

“Stop what?”

“Looking so innocent and saying things like that!”

I blink.

“I would never do that to you,” he says softly but firmly. “Never! You’re far too valuable.” He touches my lips with his fingertips, tracing the contours with a smile. “So you better get that out of your head.” Then he turns and, with soaked pant legs, plods out of the shower.

“Was that breaking the rules of our deal, to set aside the past for the day?” I call after him, and a part of me is relieved he has moved away.

He does not answer.

I squeeze water out of my wet shirt again.

And you already know that I always won! For some reason, it suddenly bothers me that I’m so inexperienced. I hope my innocence isn’t too boring for him.

We continue through Shasta Trinity National Park, always along the valley between the damp ravines and mountains. Brendan lists all the plants he knows by name around here. In addition to the willows and big-leaf maples that I recognize myself, he shows me white alders, dogwoods, spice bushes, blue oaks, California coffee berries, and dozens more. I have to memorize them all and he is only satisfied when I can point them out along with their names while driving.

The air grows cooler and smells fresh. Again and again, we pass through tiny villages in the middle of the forest as well as pretty campsites, and at some point, when the sun hangs low over the horizon, the ocean appears on our left.

“Wow! The ocean, Bren!” I lean far out the window and breathe in the salty air. I’ve never been to the ocean before, and looking at the dark blue rushing tide, I actually forget everything that worries me for the moment. The boundless expanse of water sparkles in the light of the late afternoon sun as if Swarovski crystals were dancing on the surface. Seagulls hover over the water, their hoarse squawking sounding like music.

“Did you learn how to swim?” Bren asks dryly.

“No.” I stare out wistfully. Gigantic rock formations dot the water, jutting out of the waves like islands in a hissing surf. Gray driftwood is piled up along the narrow strip of beach. “Can we stop?”

“Let’s go shopping first, Lou. Then if you like, we’ll drive along the coast to Seattle and stop whenever you want.”

I nod. Shopping. Yes. I imagine that he wants to get that over with first.

By the time we arrive in Crescent City, it’s nine thirty. Luckily, Walmart is open 24 hours, Bren googled it.

He parks the RV and we pull out two shopping carts for the tons of water Bren wants to buy. We walk side by side across the parking lot and I relish the feeling of doing something mundane with him even though I’m a bit nervous about his flashes.

Not wanting to show my discomfort, I hum a made-up tune and Bren gives me a sideways glance with raised eyebrows. My heart beats faster like it always does when he looks at me like that. The I-see-through-you-Lou hunter look. It has a fierceness I love and fear at the same time. Every girl will certainly envy me today. Of course, they don’t know our story either. The mysterious and alluring danger Brendan exudes isn’t fake like those wildlife models. Everything about him is genuine, real.

We walk side by side through the wide aisles and Bren watches my every move. It occurs to me that this is new for him too. The only public place we’ve been in together is the tiny Lodgepole Visitor Center. Walmart, on the other hand, is huge and brightly lit. Gigantic shelves rise to the high ceiling. I warily watch Bren to spot any danger early on, but there are no evident signs. Nevertheless, I discover fine beads of sweat on his forehead.

“Should I get the canned food?” It’s probably best to get out of here quickly.

Bren nods. “Not a bad idea, then we’ll be done in no time.”

I look at him questioningly and he forces a strained smile onto his face. “I’ll find you when I’m finished.”

I smile back and disappear down the next aisle, but it’s only cereal. Granola, cornflakes, and honey pops in all possible sizes. Damn! There is only one small supermarket in Ash Springs and we hardly ever shopped at Walmart in Las Vegas. I’m not used to such monstrous markets. I rarely ran errands since they were taken care of by Ethan and Avery. My stomach knots up when I think about them. So far, I’ve been ignoring my cell phone, though it vibrates when there is an incoming call.

Has Jay given them the letters yet? Maybe he didn’t dare and is waiting until the very last moment. Eventually, it will come out that I’m not with Elizabeth.

I force myself to push the thought aside. I don’t want to think about problems today. In the clothing department, my gaze accidentally sees my reflection in a mirror. Hesitantly, I stop and inspect myself. Big, royal-blue eyes shine back at me and my cheeks are reddened, perhaps a little sunburn. I look happy. Alive, a voice whispers in my head, but I chase it away—get lost! A hint of cinnamon-colored freckles forms a delicate line below my lower eyelashes. My blonde hair reaches slightly past my shoulders and is a little wavy from the involuntary shower. I match well with Brendan. He is tall and dark, I am short and blonde. Today was perfect. If we can do it today, we can do it tomorrow and the day after. Maybe that’s the secret. We have to get through it one day at a time. We need to create new memories, light fond memories that will one day outweigh the old ones.

I confidently push the cart onward and finally end up in the canned goods section. A family of five is loading their shopping cart with chili con carne like the world is ending tomorrow. I hope they leave some for us. I load twenty cans of tomato sauce in my cart and then some soup.

A couple of young men in baseball caps and ripped jeans stroll into the aisle and one starts whistling. Bren said I could pick, so I grab potato soup, tomato bisque, and noodle soup. Then I stack peach cans and fruit cocktail on top. Suddenly, I feel uncomfortable, but I don’t know why. The family disappears around the corner and the brown-haired girl turns to me briefly before vanishing, as well. The whistling grows louder. I steal a glance in the direction of the men.

They stare at me, one hulk grinning at me suggestively, pursing his lips.

I immediately turn and reach for the last can of chili—it’s high up on a shelf and I have to stand on my tiptoes to reach it. I hope that won’t encourage them to come over and help me. A strange feeling spreads through me.

Once I grab the can and put it away, I look up. Two men approach. The taller one has a toothpick in his mouth, which he bobs up and down while he stares at me unabashedly.

“Lou?” I hear Bren call out at that moment. He sounds nervous.

“Over here!” I answer, feeling a wave of relief wash through me. Bren comes around the corner and he takes a deep breath when he sees me. The men walk past me and give him disgruntled looks as if he interrupted them while they were doing something important.

Bren frowns. “Was there any trouble?” A shadow crosses his face.

Not wanting him to get unnecessarily upset, I hurriedly shake my head. The guys probably simply wanted to make me feel stupid. “No, everything’s fine. I was lost and the last can of chili was way up high! Unfortunately, there was only one left and…”

“You were lost?” he interrupts, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“I’ve rarely ever been in a supercenter,” I confess reluctantly.

Bren nods and turns back to the group of men who are now at the end of the aisle.

“The way they looked at you… Are you sure you’re okay, Lou?”

“Of course!”

“You’ve been gone for so long, I thought someone had…” He stops and looks at me, eyes full of darkness. We both know what he wanted to say.

“I’m here, Bren. With you.” Not everyone who likes me will take me away with them. It’s not a sarcastic thought, merely the truth. I put my hand on his upper arm and feel the warmth of his body. “Let’s keep shopping so we can eat sometime today.”

He presses his lips together so tightly that they’re pencil-thin.

“Bren!” We look at each other, and for several heartbeats, I fear he’s going to have a fit, but then his features relax and the dark shadows lighten. He gives a brief wink.

“All right,” he finally drawls.

We work through the rest of the list together and pack everything into the plastic bags from the dispenser at the checkout.

When we’re done, I notice the men in baseball caps from earlier hurrying toward the exit. Luckily, Bren remembered that he forgot the chili peppers. Of course, he doesn’t have to explain to me how important chili peppers are.

“Wait here with the carts. Don’t leave, okay!” he says and disappears through the entrance between the colorful fruit aisles.

To pass the time, I examine the bulletin board between a gift shop and a hairdresser.

Still Missing is the header. My heart suddenly beats faster. It’s definitely not a good idea to look at it, but suddenly, it’s like a compulsion; I can’t look away anymore. I nervously skim the notices the state or desperate relatives have posted. The big, questioning eyes of various girls look down at me. Most of them are white—and blonde.

Liv Sullivan, missing since October 27th, last seen at Wellington Campground in Redding.

She is wearing a blue ruffled dress and a red bow in her shoulder-length hair. My stomach contracts. She’s been missing for five years. I can’t even fathom what happened to her. She’s four at most. If she were still alive, she would be nine by now. My gaze moves on.

Annie Fowler, missing since March 24th, last seen in the Pacific Place Shopping Center, Seattle, in front of the restrooms.

Her date of birth is next to it. Below the photo of the ten-year-old are tear-off tabs with telephone numbers. Missing for three years.

A dark, nameless feeling spreads through me and I blink rapidly a few times. I should stop looking at the photos.

Who does something like that? That is the question that pops into my mind. But can I answer it?

The next picture is a dark-haired boy. My heart skips a beat. He looks like Brendan—how I imagine him when he was younger. But it’s not Bren, right? But then his stepfather would have had to have changed his name. It’s not possible.

Henry Cunningham—I read the name and move closer to the bulletin board. Like Bren, he has a serious, oval face. Missing since December 23rd of last year. It’s not just the date that tells me it can’t possibly be Bren, it’s also the eyes. They are dark blue, large, and seem a bit frightened of the world. As if he knew of the terrible things that were to come. He disappeared exactly one day before Christmas Eve. How awful that must have been for the parents.

How did I spend that day? I went to our mini-supermarket with Avery and bought the ingredients for our Christmas menu. Marshmallows, chestnuts, and stuffing, and Mr. Moore had to order the turkey especially for us. Avy and I fooled around while little Henry may have been terrified.

I feel sick. He wears a necklace with a crescent-shaped pendant engraved with his first name and a tiny star next to it.

I study his date of birth. He’s only five. Funny, I didn’t even notice the missing person alert in the media and yet it’s always on all channels. Maybe because since December 25th, I only concerned myself with Bren and his appearance on Hero of the Week.

It’s crazy but the little boy truly does look like him, he even has the same thin lips. Like a clone. Did Bren’s mother hang up signs everywhere at the time? Did she have the courage to do that after her ex threatened to kill Bren if she called the police? What would I have done in her place? Wouldn’t it have been better to get help despite the threat? Could the police have spared Bren his ordeal? Would they have found him? Probably not. They weren’t able to save me either, nor any of the other children displayed here.

I realize I’ll have to tell Bren about his mom soon, about everything I found out from Jayden. Brendan probably still believes she left him but it’s not true. I stare at the picture of Henry. Disappeared from private property in Rapid City, South Dakota. A cold fear creeps up inside me. Straight from his home, the place he believed he was safe!

I take a deep inhale and decide that I’ve looked at enough photos of missing children when, rather accidentally, my gaze falls on a sheet of paper partially covered by another. Something urges me to read the number on the tabs: (775) 428-2945.

Our phone number in Ash Springs. Suddenly, reality recedes into the distance. The numbers dance before my eyes, and in a series of choppy images, I watch myself lift the notice that’s covering it.

My own missing person photo smiles at me. My big blue eyes shine like they did in the mirror in the clothing department—bright as the sky, cheeks flushed. Happy. Lively.

Louisa Scriver, missing since 06/25, last seen at the Lodgepole Visitor Center, Sequoia National Park. Please contact E. Scriver or the local police with information. The last sentence is handwritten as if quickly added. I recognize Ethan’s neat lettering: the neatly curved S, the spot-on P he taught me before I started school.

With a jerk, I rip the note off the bulletin board and crumple it up in my hand. A thousand thoughts swirl through my mind.

Which of my brothers had come here? When? Shortly after my disappearance or weeks later when there was so little hope of finding me alive? What was he thinking at that moment as he hung the photo next to all those notices?

We talked so little about it. Almost not at all because everyone was so happy to have me back. Maybe my brothers didn’t want to burden me with their desperation. With Bren in the Yukon, I always imagined how much they suffered at first, but afterward, I didn’t ask them about it, maybe because I was so caught up in my cover-up story about running away and my world was an emotional mess anyway. Ethan was also angry at first because he couldn’t forgive me for running away—supposedly. Jayden got everything off his chest with his story about the girl who ran away and disregarded reality. Liam had enough to do with his conversion, speaking more to God than to us; and Avy…yes, he was the only one who occasionally told me how things were when I was gone. How quiet it was in the house, so much so that he sometimes thought he was suffocating. How Jay once laughed at a joke and then burst into tears. How much they had forgotten how to talk to each other and became strangers to one another.

Suddenly, I feel like I’m doing everything wrong again.

As if on command, my cell phone vibrates. Once, twice, three times. Carefully, as if it might explode, I pull it out of my pocket and glance at the display. The saved image of Ethan stares up at me. While it’s a funny pic, I see the reproach in his aqua-blue eyes. Shit! It’s a shock even though I knew he was going to call!

What do I do now? Part of me wants to pick up the phone, hear his voice, and tell him everything’s fine. The other thinks about my and Bren’s agreement: no past today. No problems or anything else reminiscent of the kidnapping. And that includes my brothers. I’ve studied those horrible notices long enough, even my own.

With an inward sigh, I turn off the vibration and put the phone back in my pocket. Ethan has to wait until tomorrow, but at least I’m not so afraid of his call now. I miss him. The feeling is suddenly there, it’s strange and confuses me. I’m sure I can calmly explain everything to him tomorrow.

“Do you have a pen?” The unfamiliar voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Did I flinch? The guy in front of me is definitely not much older than me, but he’s a whole head taller—okay, that’s not particularly bad. With his blond curls and summer tan, he looks like a surfer from Malibu Beach. Not that I’ve ever been there!

“No, unfortunately not.” I don’t know why, but I rummage around in my pockets anyway while simultaneously hiding my own missing person notice. “Placing an ad?” I ask, more to say something than out of curiosity. After all, such ads are set up at home on the computer.

“No.” He winks at me with light green eyes and gives me a bright smile. “I wanted to get your number.”

Oh my God! Was that a joke or is he trying to hit on me? I have no idea. For a moment, I’m completely perplexed and he starts laughing. While it’s contagious, I do not join in. Brendan’s laughter was contagious back then, too!

The guy falls silent as if on command. “Seriously, no, I have a form to fill out and there’s a mysterious pen shortage at the customer service.”

“Oh!” I breathe a sigh of relief. “I am familiar with that. That’s always the case in our house too!” I’m truly naive. “I’m sure there are cheap pens in the gift shop. Or maybe they will lend you one.” Wasn’t that guy with the group of men in baseball caps earlier—in the background? Did he take off the cap or have I gone completely insane?

He looks at me curiously but doesn’t react at all to what I’ve said. “You bought a lot. Are you traveling alone?”

Something about this question catches my attention. “With Bren.”

“Who is Bren? Your brother or someone you know?” Without me noticing, he has pushed his way through the two shopping carts and is now much closer to me. His proximity makes me nervous as memories well up inside me. Bren approaching me in the visitor center while I appear to examine the repellent spray among the camping supplies.

“My boyfriend,” I say quickly.

“I’m Kyle,” he introduces himself as if he hadn’t heard the boyfriend part. “The most beautiful girls are always taken but you might change your mind. How long have you two been together?”

“Not long.” I don’t even know why I’m answering the question. It can’t really be answered and I am completely taken by surprise.

“Well, then…” He carelessly tears a piece of paper from Henry Cunningham’s notice and pulls a pen from his pocket.

I can’t help but stare at him as if I’m intellectually challenged. I don’t know what makes me angrier: the fact that he lied or that he so callously ripped off a piece of the missing person notice. He holds out the paper with Henry’s face and the pen. Kyle Hanson is written there in gold letters—his name for sure! He must think he’s irresistible.

“Perhaps you’ll write down your number for me?”

Perplexed, I reach for the piece of paper, but only to save it from him or to write fuck you on it.

“What’s going on here?” The voice behind me sounds cold and angry, sending goose bumps scurrying down my spine. I turn on my heels and see Bren less than three feet behind the shopping carts.